


Beyond a Madman's War

by CherryMilkshake



Category: Fire Emblem: Rekka no Ken
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1864797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryMilkshake/pseuds/CherryMilkshake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even with nothing to live for, sometimes you just keep on going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond a Madman's War

**Author's Note:**

> For tumblr user tabine. Prompts used were “ever after” and “welcome back”.

After the war with Nergal ended, Legault decided to disappear.

Not literally, of course, but he worked as a free agent. One day he’d be robbing nobles for the local bandit group. The next, he’d be turning in those same bandits for bounty. He didn’t care for politics, or current happenings, or really, anything at all.

When Bern began to militarize, he left rather than get involved. He’d had his fill of armies.

For fun, he tracked down Heath from time to time. His shocked face when Legault found his latest hideaway never ceased to be entertaining. One of the only things that still was, really. And each time, Heath looked a little older—deeper wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, slower reflexes as he scrambled for his lance in the dark, the white in his hair overtaking the green.

Legault knew he too was aging, though he hardly carried around a mirror to analyze how well. Heath never said anything about it anyway, after he’d ceased cursing Legault’s ancestors and went to get something for him to drink.

He was always grateful for the bitter sting of alcohol, because it dulled the pain of nightmares. Even when the Fang was good, Legault had never slept well. Too often he woke covered in sweat, reaching up out of blankets that only seconds before had been a pile of still-warm bodies.

He was a good assassin—he never let them suffer—but it was hardly an easy job on the conscience.

After the war, the nightmares were worse. He dreamed of meeting the Reeds for the first time—Brendan a great brute of a man, flanked by his smaller sons. That booming voice explaining his vision for a mercenary group that didn’t serve the nobility like dogs, and offering him a place within it.

But those good memories would shift and warp, until he was staring into Linus’s angry face, his eyes red-rimmed from sorrow and rage. Those few minutes were seared onto his mind, like a brand doomed to never truly heal.

Linus roaring as he attacked the red-haired man with the stony face. The way he snarled as light spells peppered him from a distance, coming from the monk who was always by that man’s side.

Legault had tried to change Linus’s mind, but he’d known from the beginning that it was no use. So, while Linus was distracted trying to get at the monk, Legault had crept behind him, dripped the last of his poison onto his dagger’s blade, and shoved it into Linus’s spine, just between his shoulderblades.

He’d watched Linus scream and go still, his body no longer obeying his orders. And when he’d hit the ground, Legault had watched the red-haired man decapitate him, not allowing himself the chance to look away.

The young Linus from the good memories and the grown Linus from that horrible day melded in those nightmares. One moment, the grown man was swinging a sword at Legault’s head, and the next, a boy of 13 was crying, staring back at Legault as he dug a dagger into his too small back.

He hated that nightmare. He’d wake up to Heath holding out a flask of whiskey, and guzzle it down until he could embrace oblivion, at least until morning.

He thought about Nino from time to time, and once even tracked her down. He found her in a village in Pherae, bouncing twin babies against her breast, smiling like she always had. Jaffar was nigh unrecognizable, dressed as a craftsman, and Legault was certain that those sharp red eyes had found him, but if they did, their owner said nothing to Nino about it, and Legault was able to leave unscathed.

Some jobs in Pherae put him at odds with the Pheraen knights. It was shocking to recognize the lovely Isadora across the field, her armor still pearly white, her blue hair now streaked with gray. He decided not to linger, and made sure to leave Pherae well behind. He never entered it again.

Despite his dangerous work, Legault lived for quite a long time. Long enough to hear rumor of the horrors of Zephiel’s Bern, and about the heroic actions of Eliwood’s son. He supposed that a predilection for do-goodery lived in the blood, like so many other things.

Legault died in an inn in Ilia, shortly after it was united under its new king. His hair was white as the snow falling outside, and his heart was as heavy as it had been when he fought under Eliwood’s banner.

\--

Legault had never been a particularly religious man. It was hard to be, when his job was killing people.

So he’d had no idea what to expect from the afterlife—whether he would suffer for his sins, find forgiveness in the arms of an unknown god, or else just disappear.

But he closed his eyes in a stiff inn bed in Ilia’s winter, and opened them to a bright blue sky. Soft grass caressed his body, which was free of the creaking, crackling pains that had snuck up on him in his age. He sat up, surveying his surroundings.

It was a large empty field, green grass stretching out forever on all sides. Wait, no. The more he looked the more he became aware of shadows, and then people, milling about all around him, only there when he was looking for them.

He looked down, expecting to see himself as a similar shadow, but no, he looked as solid as he had when he’d gone to bed. Though he was naked.

_If this is the afterlife,_ he thought. _And I am no longer a physical being…_

He imagined familiar clothes. Warm, tight-fitting boots; a long violet cloak, worn and soft; a leather holster and the stiff weight of knives on his hip; the jangle of lockpicks as they bounced against his thigh.

When he looked again, he was dressed. He imagined a mirror, and looked into the face he’d always called his own. He never had figured out what he’d looked like as an old man. He hadn’t wanted to know really.

When he dropped the mirror, it vanished.

“Legault!”

He turned, his hand automatically going for his knives, but he froze when he saw who had called his name. It was Lloyd, just as he had always remembered him, young and whole, as if thirty? forty? years had not gone by.

Beside him, Uhai appeared, turning from shadow to man. Then Commander Reed. Then Linus.

Legault had never been a man easily moved, but he felt the sting of tears in his eyes, and the weight of emotion in his throat. He wanted to embrace them, but guilt held him back. He had betrayed them. His actions had led to Linus’s death.

He had no right.

But then _he_ was being embraced. Linus’s skin against his was cool where he was expecting warmth, and there was no scent, but Linus was holding him tight, his voice echoing in the chest pressed to Legault’s ear. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “I have had a long time to forgive you.”

Legault pulled away, stumbling back. “But I… I killed you!”

Linus crossed his arms. “And I gave you no chance to do otherwise. I would have killed you. When I came here and learned the truth from Lloyd, I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wished that I could go back. But there is no going back from death, except as a lost spirit, slowly losing any sense of self. I didn’t want that. I couldn’t lose my family again.”

Lloyd touched his brother’s arm and nodded at him, before turning back to Legault. “Come on, Legault. We’re all one big family, aren’t we? You sure made us wait awhile. You’ll have to tell us all of your no doubt sordid tales.”

Legault felt the smile creep up on his face, felt it’s warmth seep into his entire being. “Well, I did almost have a tryst with a knight of Pherae who was promised to another.”

Uhai gave a bark of laughter, speaking for the first time. “Only ‘almost’? You must have gone soft since I knew you last, Legault.”

Commander Reed smiled. “Yes, do tell how you ‘almost’ had a tryst, Legault.”

\--

They spoke for a long time, not that time really means anything in the afterlife. Ironically, Legault felt more alive than he had in most of his actual life. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed this camaraderie, this sense of belonging. Spending time with Heath had helped, but it was no replacement.

Tired of talking, the five lay in the grass, staring up at the blue sky and feeling the soft breeze on their faces.

“So,” Legault said after a time. “What happens now? Is this all we do for eternity?”

“It could be,” Lloyd said. “But there’s also a path onwards, if you are ready to take it.”

“What’s beyond death?” Legault asked.

“No one knows. That’s why some choose to stay here to wait for loved ones.”

Legault hesitated. “Were you… waiting for me?”

“No more guilt, Legault,” Linus grumbled. “Yes, we were waiting for you. You’re family.”

“And we’re waiting for one more,” Commander Reed said softly.

His sons quieted. “Yeah,” Linus said. “One more to go.”

Legault knew who they were talking about. “She married the Angel of Death, you know,” he said conversationally.

“What?!” Linus and Lloyd leapt up in sync, looming over Legault.

Legault held up his hands in surrender. “He treats her well. He would die for her, and that’s enough for me.”

The two brothers sat back down, both looking gloomy in their own ways.

“I don’t want to follow the path onward with him.” Linus was sulking.

“If Nino loves him, we’ll just have to put up with him. At least he’s quiet,” Lloyd muttered, obviously trying to be reasonable, but failing.

A shadow approached them. Legault was the first to recognize it.

“No…!” he gasped.

The rest of the group turned to look as the shadow morphed in Nino, now the woman Legault had seen with the babies, instead of a baby herself.

Lloyd was on his feet first, taking her hands. “Nino… You shouldn’t be here yet.”

She fell into his chest, squeezing tightly. “I know,” she whispered. “It was an accident. I was looking for Jaffar… He left when the bounty hunters started coming to our home. He feared for the children. I left them with Lucius in Araphen, promised them I would come back, but there was this terrible snowstorm in Ilia and I… I guess I died.”

Linus joined their embrace, as Nino cried. Commander Reed looked down at the ground, pensive and silent.

“Have you seen Jaffar?” she asked Legault. “Is he here?”

Legault looked around, but didn’t catch sight of him. “I haven’t seen him, but it’s a big place.”

She sighed. “My poor babies… I never should have left them, no matter the reason. God, I’m no better than…!!”

It was only then that Commander Reed stood up, and put a hand on Nino’s head. “No. You are nothing like that witch who called herself your mother. She would never weep for her children. I doubt she could even muster up fake tears.”

Nino sniffed and smiled weakly. “I missed you, Commander.”

He picked her up and held her close. “You too.”

She joined them for a time, telling her old family about her new one.

“Come with us,” Linus said. “We want to see beyond.”

But Nino shook her head. “I have to find Jaffar. Or, at the very least, wait for my children, so that I can apologize for my behavior.”

“Are you sure?” Legault asked her, resting his hand on hers. “We will wait for you, if you want.”

But Nino smiled and shook her head. “No, I can see it on your faces. You want to go on. So, go. I love you.”

They all hugged her goodbye, and when they turned around, a path, cobbled with dark stones, appeared.

“Are you ready?” Commander Reed asked.

And his four followers nodded, and stepped forward, disappearing from Nino’s sight as their feet hit stone.

  
  



End file.
